


On All Hallows Eve

by BeatriceEarnshaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Swap, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatriceEarnshaw/pseuds/BeatriceEarnshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort didn't know that the confrontation at Godric's Hollow would end this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On All Hallows Eve

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time finishing and sharing a fan fiction. I am open to any constructive criticism.

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."_

Sybill Trelawney

 

31, October 1981

Godric’s Hollow, West Country, England

Voldemort’s eyes opened slowly. His head was pounding intensely. He was aware of a distant noise, but the sound was muddled as if he were hearing it under water.

‘What happened?’ The events of what unfolded flashed through his mind. _A green flash. Darkness._

The dark wizard winced as he gently sat himself up. He quickly noticed that something seemed to be off. His once skeletal hands, were now fuller and delicate. His robes were replaced by a fitted knit sweater that showed a protrusion from his chest. No, _her_ chest. He ran his hands slowly over the body and frowned as the hands felt the breasts and curves beneath the hands. He grimaced as red hair cascaded over his shoulder.

The Dark Lord stopped feeling the body and looked around the room. The room was dark, slightly lit by the light of the moon, but from what he could see, he was still in the nursery. What was left of the nursery that is. The room was in shambles. The house creaked and groaned as he heard pieces of wood fall to the floor below him. On the other side of the room there was a heap of dark robes.

He slowly got up from where he sat, brushing away debris from his person. He shakily made his way over to the dark mass of robes on the floor. His robes. There was an odious odor around them. The smell making him think of burnt flesh.

‘Where’s my wand?’ he wondered. “Accio wand,” his or rather _her_ voice came out slightly hoarse.

The wand hadn’t come to him. He frowned and called, “Accio wand”. Nothing.

He fumed as he knelt down and rummaged through the wooden planks around his robes. ‘Ah, found it.’ He snatched up his wand and held it close. The man's body warmed as the wand accepted him as its owner.

"Lumos," a soft blue glow emitted from the tip of the wand. He turned slowly to examine the room, which was slowly falling apart. A plank crashed from the ceiling. He looked up to make sure none were to fall on him.

The Dark Lord’s attention was snatched away by a crying sound coming from the room. He turned his head and wand in the direction of the crying. There in the pale glow was an infant clutching onto the rail of its cot, what was left of it.

“It couldn't be...” the wizard made his way closer to the child.

 _‘Harry Potter_ _,_ _alive_ _?_ How could the brat have possibly survived the curse?’ Voldemort thought to himself.

“But how…” the dark wizard trailed off as he noticed the lightning bolt scar enflamed on the boy’s forehead.

Voldemort made his way closer to the crib. Potter fell on his bum in the cot and looked up at him sniffling. The man reached over to lightly press a finger against the bolt of lightning. The skin was puckered and warm beneath the index finger. A curse mark. He could feel something, a strong magical signature hidden within the scar.

The wizard pieced together what could’ve happened. After he had killed the woman, he had turned his wand onto the child. He cast the killing curse. The spell hit the Potter brat, the scar on his forehead was sure proof of that, but it also hit him. It _killed him_. He felt a slight chill run through him at the thought. As his soul departed from his body, it entered into the freshly deceased body of Lily Potter.

The boy was stretching his arms out, signaling for the dark wizard to pick him up.

What was he to do with the child? The man pondered quietly. He traced the side of his wand slowly, “If I were to cast the curse again, will it end the boy once and for all or will it be my undoing?” He cheated death once and obtained a youthful body. He didn’t want to take the chance of losing his life again.

No, the child may be of some use to him. He placed the wand in his, or rather _her_ , waistband and picked up the heavy child. Potter put one of his small hands into his mouth and then used that same hand to touch Lily Potter’s face. _Disgusting_.

There was an eerie creak and groan coming from the far side of the room. “Lily?” Voldemort turned slightly to see Severus Snape standing in the doorframe.

A cruel smile appeared on the lovely face of Lily Potter. “Severus,” Voldemort hissed “I’m so glad to see you.”

Severus stood stock still, the remaining bit of color in his face drained as he stared at Lily Potter or rather Voldemort.

Voldemort shifted the child in his arms. Harry cooed and held onto the sweater. “Is that any way to greet your Master?”

Severus still hadn’t moved. His mouth was clenched tight, but the chin quivered slightly and the man's black eyes had a slight watery sheen to them. Voldemort grimaced at the small display of emotion.

The man finally got his wits about him and knelt down in front of him. “My Lord,” that strong, careful voice he was so used to hearing was breaking.

Voldemort turned away, ignoring the small sobs from the man behind him. He held tightly to the Potter boy in his arms and looked out the shattered window, planning his next move.

**Fin**


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